Believe me, dogs don't come cheap. Veterinary care is outrageously expensive and I have never learned the art of nail clipping, so even though I have short haired dogs, there are still grooming expenses. My dogs eat quality food - read expensive here - and my Mika is a special needs girl on a prescription diet. Without doubt, I could take at least one extra vacation a year with the money I spend on my dogs. And I love vacations, so that is quite the interesting trade off for me. Ultimately, how much you spend on your dogs depends on how much money you have and how many dogs live with you. I have six at the moment so enough said.
This week the crushing end-of-life scenario hit our family once again. At eleven years old, my dad's greyhound was getting up there into the old-greyhound-danger-zone. In October, she presented with some kidney failure and was put on a specialized diet and did well until Wednesday, when she vomited several times. Regular vet, then emergency vet and by mid-afternoon on Thursday, we were dealing with a terminally ill dog.
Hemangiosarcoma is an extremely aggressive cancer of the blood-vessels that causes internal bleeding and spreads rapidly. At most, she had only weeks to live and would grow steadily weaker. The blessing in all this - and there usually is if we look for one - is that the emergency vet made it very clear to my dad that if Janie were his dog, he would put her down that very day.
So while we needed to deal with the shock of a terminal diagnosis, at least there was no agonizing over what to do or what not to do about it. This kind and wise doctor made all the difference. If only there were more like him in the veterinary world!
The final episode in a dogs life is a familiar one to dog owners. A nurse laid a quilt out on the tile floor in a small windowless room where Janie was led in. The doctor explained the procedure and what to expect. My dad sobbed his goodbyes. I sat down next to her on the blanket and told her, as I tell all the dogs in those last moments, to go on ahead and we'll catch up with her down the road a bit. She breathed her last with tears of grief falling gently onto her soft fur. She takes them with her to the life beyond. We loved her and we will miss her.
Janie's life may be over but she is one of the lucky ones: she was cherished in life and will be remembered in death. Dad will get a little better every day and sooner rather than later, I am certain he will take another dog into his heart and home.
So why then, with all the expense and the crushing weight of letting go, do we do it? And do it over and over and over again? For me the answer is quite simple and I can tell it best by relating how I came to understand it myself and then explained it to my children.
When they were young, we had a rough collie named Rebel. She was such a good dog with the children, just as you would expect from a collie and we all loved her very much. She suffered from Lyme disease - try finding a deer tick on the skin of a rough collie. In time, the Lyme and normal osteoarthritis took a toll on her hind legs. After the decision was made to euthanize her, I brought the kids to the vet to say goodbye to her, which they did, quietly and tearfully, and then I led them into the waiting room while Bob stayed with Rebel to the end. We left the vet's office with nothing but her collar and our tears.
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| Rebel after a shave |
Later, when reflecting on our loss with the children, I explained that the price we paid for the love we shared with Rebel over the years was our pain in losing her, but that the pain was nothing compared to the love and joy she brought to us, every day, for eleven and a half years. I counseled them that they could not NOT love because they are afraid of inevitable pain and in explaining this to them, I came to understand it for myself. Since that time, more than two dozen pets have come into the family, mostly dogs, some cats and even three birds. Clearly, we have accepted the mathematics of love and loss.
It is my deep belief that dogs lives are brief to remind us that our own lives are all too short. In loving dogs and sharing their lives, we are reminded to live in the moment as they do. They don't worry and they don't hold grudges and they are made infinitely happy by the simplest of every day things: a ball tossed, a walk around the block, some ice cream; all qualities that if we could only grasp them, would lead us to the happiness they live every day.
In living with dogs, we learn to be more fully alive, maybe even, to be more fully human.
So we put up with the mess and the expense, and we love and we lose and we love again.
And couldn't imagine life without them.
